My little brother recently turned sixteen. In our house, attaining that age comes with the special privilege of watching “big-kid” movies. Something about that magic age says: “you are now old enough to make good decisions in what entertainment you choose.” Being two years the senior, I had a few good suggestions to make to Joe, and on the night of his sixteenth birthday we launched into one of my all-time favorites: The Dark Knight Trilogy.

With a good two years of “big-kid” movie-watching under my belt, I felt certain that Joe would appreciate the Christopher Nolan telling of Batman, and I was not mistaken. We went on a bit of a marathon and finished over six hours of Batman in four days. For me—usually uninterested in action or superhero movies—such a marathon was uncharacteristic, but I was pleasantly surprised at what I found in the trilogy.

While there were numerous, wonderful bits and revelations I struck upon, I must keep my review brief for the sake of space. I will not explore the elements of the Christian journey, true love, and—random as it seems—the French Revolution. For the scope of the present article, I will restrain myself to one point: the power of the superhero story.

More recently than watching The Dark Knight Trilogy, I completed a lightning-fast read of Eleanor Bourg Nicholson’s Brother Wolf. The novel was amazing and thoroughly un-put-downable, and I left it with a rekindled love for the Gothic. As Brother Wolf reminds it readers, the Gothic novel provides a mirror in which fallen man sees a reflection of sin and the monstrousness of concupiscence. The well-written Gothic also reminds that God’s grace is greater and always triumphant over sin and evil. So it is that, while friends and family raise their eyebrows at my Gothic books, I often find the stories inspirational and comforting.

With a Gothic novel, the reader suspends their disbelief and happily accepts whatever weird and wild adventures are presented. No one balks at a discussion of good versus evil when facing blood-sucking vampires or other manifestations of demonic forces. Likewise, the superhero story rushes into the face of monsters and supervillains without a qualm and does battle with evil at its heart. If characters in a contemporary drama suddenly paused and discussed fundamental good and evil, readers or viewers would roll their eyes and carelessly skim the preachy content. However, no one dreams of belittling Bruce Wayne’s struggles to defend Gotham City against the Joker.

In considering the superhero story’s ability to display good and evil, the second film in The Dark Knight Trilogy—by the same title—is the best example. The Joker enters stage and offers a clear, undeniable figure of Satan, whose psychopathic violence has no reason or goal other than, in Alfred’s words, “to see the world burn.” The simple superhero plot—wherein the bad guy clearly has a wicked plan which the good guy must oppose—seems paltry and dull when compared with the terrifying confusion of The Dark Knight’s plot. In one moment, the Joker’s intent is to unmask the Batman, the next moment he threatens to murder the man who would publicly comply to his former demand. The Joker blows up hospitals, murders innocent people along with mob bosses, laughing maniacally all the while. What is the point of all the death and destruction?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

How realistic the Joker’s maniacal evil feels in our modern world! One moment there is a violent illness in the house, the next moment a healthy family member is suddenly killed. In the world at large, the same confusing whirl of tragedy and violence continues at an alarming rate. Terrible things happen just as unaccountably as though the Joker were orchestrating them.

In the end, Batman’s answer to evil was clearer than anticipated. People are made good, and goodness has a marvelous resilience in the face of evil. The people of Gotham needed a reason to hope and someone to trust, and Batman was asked to sacrifice himself to fill their need. Batman’s greatest sacrifice was to remain true to his calling and duty as a superhero, never bowing to the Joker’s demands, and through that he protected his people. His end in The Dark Knight was not so bright and glorious as one finds with Superman, but Batman—misunderstood and falsely accused—offers viewers an image of a fallen, human hero.

Cutting through the chaos, stories come to inspire and revive. A reader or viewer is easily tricked into deeper, provocative thought when accosted by unadulterated evil in combat with good. Any great story may remind us of the encouraging message that good triumphs, but the superhero story does so in a more fantastical, dazzling manner.

Maggie Rosario was homsechooled throughout both elementary and secondary school. She is currently a liberal arts student at Our Lady Seat of Wisdom College in Barry's Bay, Ontario, where she continues her pursuit of music, creative writing, and literature. She gladly takes any opportunity to attend college dances or hiking trips in free time.

One Reply to “Light in The Dark Knight”

  1. Wonderful thoughts, Maggie! I love them. I haven’t watched any Batman in years, years and years!! But I’d been thinking about this very thing over the past few weeks. My 18 year old finally convinced me to retry Stranger Things, so I did…and maybe I’d been in a dry spell before, but this time, watching it, I was completely drawn in by the SuperHero, Good vs Evil themes. I could even go so far as to say the Christian themes were almost blatant. ha! Maybe I’m not the first to view the Horror series in such a light, but I loved it. It really sparked my inspiration. From seeing Eve in the character Eleven, to seeing Eleven as the New Eve [her suffering and ‘saving’ the world], to the iconic images of Satan and his taking over of the world. *shivers*

    Good stuff.

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